Pieces
by ChaseChick
Summary: Post season 4. Panic attack. Lydia and Stiles. Drabble.


Piece

The halls were unnaturally quiet, nothing but the sound of his footsteps echoing off the walls as he approached his locker. He thumbed the combination into the lock and opened the locker with a rattle. He stared into the space not seeing the texts that were piled haphazardly inside, instead remembering how it felt to be trapped in the confined space, the sting of his fists as he pounded on the solid surface, the burn of his lungs as he screamed.

He shivered involuntarily and took a shaky breathe as he tried to regain his composure. He tried to remind himself that he'd never actually been shut in the locker, merely a trick by the nogitsune but no matter how long he repeated the words it didn't make the terror any less real. It seemed that the flashbacks hit him at the most random of times. Sometimes at the sight of something inconsequential, a smell, hell even sounds had sent him off the deep end a time or two. He wasn't safe anywhere.

Lydia was ditching her American History class and was instead making her way to her locker to cut out early for the day. It wasn't her usual behavior but she needed to decompress. Now that there was a lull in all the supernatural activity in Beacon Hills for a moment she felt Allison's loss and Aiden's more acutely than she had previously. She wouldn't use the word distraction, but with all that had been going on it had inevitably turned into one.

She rounded the corner to find Stiles standing in front of his locker. Even from the end of the hall she could see that his hand was gripped to the edge of the open locker like a vice. His eyes were squeezed shut and his posture reeked of tension. She wanted to approach him, to ask him if he was okay. Instead she faltered, fighting herself with what her heart wanted and what her brain told her to do. They'd grown together over the past few years but the past few weeks Lydia couldn't help but feel there was a gaping divide that was only growing larger between them. She wasn't sure how to bridge that gap between them, or if Stiles even wanted to. He was like a familiar stranger to her now.

So instead of approaching him she slinked back into the shadows even more flustered and derailed than she'd already been, instead she exited out the side doors and took the long way around to the parking lot leaving Stiles to deal with it on his own. Or perhaps he'd reach out to Malia she thought to herself bitterly.

Stiles could feel his heart beating erratically against his chest. He slammed the locker door and the sound caused him to startle. He put a shaky hand through his hair and looked around to see he was still abysmally alone. He made a beeline for the door needing some fresh air or an escape route, probably both. He knew he was a few seconds away from a full blown panic attack and he didn't want anyone to see him fold in on himself. There were already rumors about him floating around the school. Apparently his possession hadn't flown completely under the radar.

He jogged quickly through the doors but even the afternoon California sun did little to dissipate his growing anxiety. He'd been careful to keep his troubles to himself. With everything they had going on Scott didn't need to worry about him too. Stiles only hoped he'd make it to the Jeep without any audiences.

The parking lot seemed to spin before him as he desperately tried to pull the keys from his pocket. He grasped them and attempted to pull them free but he fumbled them dropping them onto the pavement. He cursed inwardly and tried to spot them as he kneeled. His panic attack griped him tighter and he was starting to think he'd pass out here by the Jeep and get run over when he heard a familiar voice.

"Stiles?" Lydia asked as she stepped from her car that was parked a few rows over from his Jeep. She had been set to pull out when she'd spotted him running into the parking lot. For a fleeting moment she'd thought he was running to her. But then she'd spotted his Jeep and her heart broke a little when she realized he was merely cutting out of school early too.

She'd been about to put her car in reverse when she'd seen him stumble. He wasn't alright and she couldn't leave him like that. She quickly jammed the shifter back to park and ran over to him. He was on his hands and knees next to his Jeep his keys splayed out in front of him. His knuckles bled on the hand that he had used to try and catch his fall unsuccessfully.

"Are you okay?" She asked. He gave her a pained expression as he clutched his chest. "Right, stupid question." She said more to herself than him. A quick look around the parking lot confirmed that they were the only ones around. She couldn't ask someone else to step in even if helping him would only hurt her more. This was the closest she'd been to him in a while and she was painfully aware of the hope flaring in her chest at his proximity like a piece of her being put back together again.

"Stiles look at me. Listen to my voice." She slid her fingers under his chin and brought his panic filled eyes to hers. Echos of another time played before her eyes as she recalled the last time she had helped pull him from an attack. She blinked back tears at the memory. "Just focus on my voice Stiles. You're okay. You're safe." She spoke evenly and calmly even though her heart pounded and she just wanted to run and protect herself.

His breath continued to rattle in and out at an alarming rate. "Stiles, let's sit you back okay?" She asked as she leaned him back into a sitting position by his tire. She held his hand and brought it to her chest. "Breathe with me Stiles. Feel me. Breathe in, breathe out with me." At first she feared he was too far gone, that she wasn't going to be able to pull him from it but slowly he began to breathe in time with her.

Her knees were throbbing and skinned as she sat on her knees next to him the pavement biting into her skin but she barely registered the injury, focusing instead on the broken figure before her. When she looked back up at Stiles he was staring at her with tears sliding silently down his cheeks. "Hey." She said simply.

"Hey." He replied and gave her a tiny smile in return. "Thanks." He said before pulling his eyes from her.

"You're welcome." She replied before falling silent unsure of what to say next.

"I'm sorry." He whispered and if it hadn't been for the quiet in the parking lot she would have missed it.

"Sorry for what?" She asked looking back at him. He pulled his hand from hers and pulled his knees to his chest and buried his head in his hands. When his shoulders began to shake she scooted closer to him and pulled him to her. "Hey, Stiles, it's okay. It will be all right."

After a few moments he answered. "I don't think it will be. I remember everything Lydia, even if I couldn't stop him. I can't think straight, I keep getting flash backs I can't control, I can't sleep, I can't eat, all I can see is Allison, I can see you running when he.. he…" He dissolved into sobs and didn't finish.

He couldn't believe out of all the people to run into in the parking lot while he was trying to get away unseen it had to be Lydia. It had to be her to see him break down and lose it like the lunatic he was. He could feel the anger seeping back in to his conscious at himself. How could he have let her see? Let her see what a complete mess he was. He was exhausted. He wanted nothing than to curl up and sleep for days. But yet he was terrified to close his eyes. Terrified to let the nightmare play out again.

"Stiles. None of that was your fault I want you to know that. She wouldn't want you blaming yourself and I definitely don't. You need to talk about what happened, what you felt, what you went through. Hiding away by pretending you're fine is just going to make you bottle it all up until it explodes. Trust me, I know a thing or two about going crazy." She said trying to lighten the mood giving him a soft smile.

"How can you sit there and look at me that way Lydia? I've got the same face as that monster." He tried to pull his hand out of hers that had somehow found its way there but she tugged him back.

"Because I knew it wasn't you Stiles. That's how."

He heard the distant ring of the bell. Shit. School was out. He'd effectively lost another hour of the day. He needed to pick himself up and get out of here before the students filtered to the parking lot. He motioned to Lydia that he was going to stand and she followed suit. He stumbled and leaned on the Jeep.

"Hey, you don't look like you're in any shape to drive. Why don't I give you a ride?" She asked her green eyes full of concern.

"I don't think…" He could see her hopeful look began to fall. "Okay." He changed his mind and her hopeful smile returned.

He staggered over to her still running car and collapsed inside. He just caught sight of Malia looking for him at the edge of the parking lot. He held his breathe when he caught her eye. She gave him a questioning look as she glanced to Lydia but she simply nodded and gave him a shrug and smile, he gave her a small wave in return. Lydia caught the exchange and paused in the buckling of her seatbelt. "Let's get out of here Lydia. " He spoke quietly startling her. She nodded and backed out of the parking spot and pulled out of the lot. He threaded his fingers in hers and for the first time in weeks he felt at peace.

"Where to?" She asked him.

"Anywhere." He answered her and she gave him that bright smile, the one she reserved just for him and he could feel his heart beat in something other than terror. He wasn't sure he'd ever have that feeling again. Like he might actually be alive. Like he just might make it. Like there might be enough pieces for him to put back together again.


End file.
